Thursday 10/10 was mental health awareness day. I wasn’t aware. That morning I sat at John’s Auto Body waiting for them to look at my car and fix the rear bumper which had been fixed once before (long story – hit by drunk driver). The TV was on at John’s and was tuned to Good Morning America or the Today Show or one of those 3-hour-long programs. They did a segment on mental health in which they talked about the signs of depression. More importantly, they talked about ways to combat depression. A key take away was to have authentic one-on-one connections. I’ve been a believer in this for a while, and have been trying to build those connections over the past few years.
B: A loved one’s struggle
Of course it’s hard for me to not think of my recent experiences and also not think of my ex-fiancee, B, when I think about depression. When she and I were doing couple’s therapy, she revealed that she suffers from low-grade depression – a constant sadness. Friends had remarked that she always had tears in her eyes. She had told me that she was on medication when she was out in San Diego, but things got better and she stopped because of the side effects. She had also told me that she suffered from complex grief which had symptoms very similar to PTSD. In 2015, she lost both her husband and her mother within a month of each other. I can’t imagine trying to process that much loss. One time she and I were talking about something that reminded her of her husband’s struggle as a child (he had cancer as a kid) and when I said I would try to understand her sadness, she got upset with me and said “what do you mean, try?” She said some days she’s amazed she’s still standing. Her depression and sadness were very real. Having never really experienced loss, I had no way to relate. I was bound to make missteps, bound to act in ways that didn’t give her situation the full care that it deserved.
Matt: My struggle
When B left me, I felt like we were at the height of our relationship. I couldn’t remember ever being as happy as I was with her. The leaving was a shock. It took me months just to process that it happened – even now, half a year later, I think about her and us every day. It’s a loss like I’ve never experienced. I’ve gotten divorced. I had a serious relationship end because my partner cheated on me…. none of those things felt like this.
I can remember the days and weeks after she left. I was in a stupor. I could barely think most days. All I wanted was calm and quiet. Anyone asking me to make a decision was an intrusion on my thoughts. I wanted to snap at everyone. This lasted for a while. I struggled to leave the house, I didn’t want to be around friends, family, or co-workers. B felt the same thing. she once texted “Definitely so sad and depressed about this not working out…. not enjoying anything right now. Hiding inside and unpacking.” In that moment, I wish she could have seen that as an opportunity to reconnect and bond – we were both reeling.
For me, nothing seemed to help. After a while I decided I needed to leave. I began interviewing for jobs. Texas, California, North Carolina, St. Louis, Memphis. Every time I left to visit another city, I felt like I was dying or going off to die. The thought of death didn’t seem all that bad. I was never suicidal, but there were plenty of times that I thought “If I don’t wake up tomorrow, I’m ok with that” or “if the car goes off the cliff…” There were times I thought about the people who shoot themselves – how do they feel? I could imagine what a gun pressed up just under my right jaw would feel like – always the right jaw always pushed firm and cold against my skin. These were some of my darkest days. I had nobody to talk to – nobody who could possibly understand – except maybe B…. there were days I was amazed I was still standing.
The grief of losing her still hits me way more often than I would like. I still say a few words of love to her before bed every night – hoping the cosmos somehow carries them to her or helps watch over her. I often think about our now parallel paths. Our grief is very different, but I have such a better understanding of what that daily sadness feels like. I know what she meant when she couldn’t handle small arguments or even having to care for someone else’s needs. Sometimes I wish she and I could talk about these things. I think we could help each other heal better than anyone else could help us.
I have more to say on this – it’s an ever-evolving process. I’m sure I’ll revisit and edit.